Seed of Hope
by Cyclone
Summary: Reposted from Spacebattles. Taylor triggers early with a rogue shard that comes from neither Scion nor Eden... but from the Regess.
1. Prelude

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Prelude_

The Regess lay dying. It was not the first time destruction had been wrought upon her people, her children. First, it was the Children of Shadow, who feared the power of the Flower of Life. Then, it was the Robotech Masters, who coveted its power. The last time had been the humans of Earth, so like the Robotech Masters in appearance, yet fighting only for the very home her own people had taken from them. Each time they had fled, the last by breaching space and time itself.

And now, they were dying once more, this time their destruction wrought by the carelessness of kindred beings, who, like the Invid, sought to learn and evolve, but did so through an incredibly inefficient and careless manner.

And this time, she was dying with them.

 _No._

She would not let this be the end of her people. She sensed the shards of themselves the entities had cast down and shaped her people in their image. She took her strength, her power, her knowledge, but most importantly of all, the essence of the Flower of Life, and flung them across time and space.

The humans of Earth, she knew, could be petty and destructive, but there was good in them as well.

She may die, but her people would _live_.

* * *

The entity Cauldron named "Eden" would have considered it a rogue shard, a forgery, but to the Invid, it was their last seed of hope. For all the Regess's skill at shaping her creations, it wasn't like the shards cast off by the entities.

And perhaps, that was for the better.

The true shards were built to seek out conflict. They bound themselves to potential hosts and waited until they reached the lowest points in their lives in order to get direction and focus on what they should provide. The rogue shard needed no such context. It was not built to limit itself beyond the limits imposed by its host.

And, in a very real sense, it had just lost its mother.

* * *

Blasto glared at the tripartite flower, but it refused to acknowledge him. No matter what he tried, he couldn't tease out the mysterious plant's secrets. Superficially, it was simple enough, a hybrid of different plant classes, a flowering plant that reproduced through spores rather than seeds.

But once he dug deeper... he just didn't understand it. It made no sense. And it was maddening.

He was a Tinker, damn it! Plants were his thing! _How could there be a plant he didn't understand?!_

He hung his head in defeat.

Whoever had created this strange new flower and the vaguely feline pollinators that accompanied them was far beyond him.

* * *

When the plants, harmless as they seemed, and their friendly little pollinators had first emerged in Brockton Bay, Amy Dallon worried. She knew, deep in her heart of hearts, that Carol's suspicions would fall on her. After all, they knew her power could do this, could shape life however she wanted.

But the accusation never came.

When Carol returned home with samples of the new plants - after Vicky had adopted one with the timeless plea of "It followed me home! Can I keep it?" - she had simply asked that she ensure it was safe.

Amy had never had such a migraine before or since.

It _seemed_ to be safe, but it still worried her. Especially with the way that- that _creature_ kept following Vicky.

* * *

"WHOO HOO!" Skidmark crowed as he inhaled the spores. Whatever this new weed was, it was fucking _awesome!_

* * *

Her name was Sophia Hess. She was also known as Shadow Stalker, and she was a predator, hunting the filth in the night.

But now... now, she watched. The ABB thugs in the alley below were going down tonight, one way or the other. It was just a matter of seeing who that redhead was inside first: predator or prey?

She never got the chance. Had she been anyone else, she doubted she would have seen it, but her own power and the affinity for shadows that came with it meant she tended to pay more attention to them.

So when a massive shadow detached itself from the alley and started padding silently toward the altercation below, it caught her attention, and she looked away just as the redhead's own gazed landed on her.

It looked vaguely feline, but if it was a cat, it was a gigantic one, four and a half feet tall and eight feet long, with hellish-looking red eyes that were starting to glow faintly. It moved with an impossible grace, gliding far more quietly than something that size had to right to... before it lunged into action.

Sophia blinked.

A gunshot rang out.

And it was over.

Blood practically covered the alleyway, with pieces of the ABB thugs scattered around to add to the decor. Sophia swallowed back the taste of bile as the hellcat suddenly looked up, pinning her with its soulless gaze.

She froze, a comparison to deer in the headlights coming unwillingly to mind. The hellcat turned away, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She shifted into her shadow form and fled, cursing herself inside.

 _I'm_ not _prey!_ she thought fiercely. _I'm_ not _weak! I'm not..._

The words rang hollow in her mind.


	2. Germination 1-1

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.1_

I hated using Inorganics. There was a part of me that simply _loathed_ anything to do with the Regent or his creations, but the recon Inorganic was the only thing I could build that could stay hidden - even the smaller Malar suits were less discreet - and I needed that stealth to watch over Emma, to keep her safe.

I'd lost my mother to a car accident. I wasn't going to lose my only friend if I could help it.

There was also the fact that I was still leery about transmuting Invid, and Inorganics didn't need pilots. They didn't need to eat or breathe or sleep. They didn't know pity or remorse or fear. They only cared about their mission.

At least in theory. There seemed to be a hint of... viciousness that pervaded everything the Regent had created, and that was no more clear than in the Inorganics. Still, they were loyal and only need a brain to command them.

No, wait. That came out wrong. I meant an Invid brain. It's like a biological supercomputer, no sapience or will of its own. The one in our basement was transmuted from a stray cat and was of limited capability. I didn't need the biomatter, but it made it easier, and I _did_ need a living core to transmute into something else living. For something like the Inorganic, sneaking out at night and transmuting part of the rusted hulk of a car at the local junkyard had been simple enough.

On top of all that, I was in a bit of a hurry. I had to make sure whatever guardian I created for Emma was working properly before I left for camp. My communication range wasn't very far yet, and I was fairly certain the city would be out of my range while I was at camp.

I suppose I should go back a bit. It was after Mom died, at the funeral, when I triggered. That's what they call it, anyway, when a cape gets their powers.

I wasn't like other parahumans. I was a grab bag cape, I guess you would say, but... I'd never heard of a grab bag Tinker. And I also remembered... history. Flashes of memories, of wars waged across the stars and on alien worlds; nothing I'd read online had said _anything_ like that.

And what I'd read about Tinkers... it also didn't match what I had. Tinkers had very narrow specialties, whereas I had technology from at least three different civilizations in my head, one of which I could transmute with an act of will. Most of it was military tech - weapons and armored vehicles, tools of destruction - but it seemed more... complete, I guess, than what the internet suggested was normal for Tinkers.

And that was why I couldn't tell anyone. I could - and had! - created self-replicating life; the Flowers of Life and pollinators which had once been dandelions and squirrels now spread rampantly throughout the area. I don't know why I created them; it just seemed... _right_ , but however harmless they were, I doubted the PRT would see it that way, not with the likes of Nilbog around.

I also had telepathy... like the Simurgh. It should be obvious why letting anyone know that would be a bad idea, but that wasn't all. My range was growing. In time, I was sure, I could reach out and touch minds across the whole planet, if not further, and that was terrifying.

Not even Dad knew. He just sort of... shut down when Mom died, threw himself into his job with the Dockworkers Assocation, for all the good that did.

But I digress. I transmuted the Invid brain and an Inorganic to protect Emma before I left for camp. Camp itself had been uneventful, but on the way back, I... I felt it. Once I was in range, the brain made its report, and I knew.

I nearly threw up.

 _Emma._

* * *

Thankfully, I was able to pass it off as motion sickness, but I had to see Emma. I had to know she was okay.

She wasn't.

I ended up spending the night. I won't go into too much detail - that's private - but Emma was a wreck. She stammered through what had happened; of course, I already knew, probably better than she did, since the Inorganic hadn't been terrified out of its wits.

We watched a few movies, and in the end, she fell asleep leaning against me on the couch. Not wanting to disturb her, I simply leaned my head back and went to sleep as well.

I wasn't sure what time it was when I woke up, but it was still dark out, and Emma was gone. I stood up and looked around; the kitchen light was on, so I went to check.

She was standing there, hands clasped around a mug on the countertop, just staring at... nothing.

"Ems?" My voice sounded... timid. I hated that.

She blinked but didn't turn. "Can't sleep."

"Ems," I said, walking up to her and pulling her into a hug. "It's okay. You're safe."

She pulled away. "Don't say that!" she hissed. "You don't know that!"

I opened my mouth, then closed it. _Screw it,_ I decided. "Actually, Ems, I do."

"Huh?" That had confused her.

"I've... been keeping a secret," I admitted. "Let me show you." My hand darted out to hers, but she yanked her hand back before I touched her.

I froze, then held my hands up. "Please, Ems?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment, she opened her eyes and nodded. "Okay, Taylor," she said, taking my hand. "J-just... lead the way."

We didn't go far, just out the back door. While the Barneses weren't precisely _rich_ , they _were_ upper class and lived out in the suburbs. The trees at the edge of their back yard were largely decorative, but at this time of night, they cast long shadows.

"Do you see him?" I asked.

"See who?" she asked, eyes darting around.

I pointed at a particularly deep shadow. "Over there." A mental command, and the Inorganic stood up, eyes flashing red. Emma stiffened.

"It's okay," I said. "I... I made him. To protect you."

I commanded the Inorganic to approach, and I petted it on the head. "See?" I said, giving Emma a pleading look. "You're safe. _He'll_ make sure of that."

Emma reached out a tentative hand and petted the Inorganic. After a while, she grew bolder, and soon, we were sitting on the patio steps with the Inorganic's head in Emma's lap.

"Sooo," she said, "you're a cape?"

I nodded shyly. "Yeah," I said. "I... got my powers after Mom died."

She nodded, then hugged me. "You saved me, then. If it hadn't been for you and..." she shuddered, then paused. "What's his name, anyway?"

I opened my mouth, then frowned. This model of Inorganic had been the Regent's first, modeled after a predator from Garuda to sniff out resistance in ways that the _iigaari_ and _gurab'pa_ couldn't. He had never given it a name, not like the Odeon and others that came after.

Emma giggled. "You didn't give him a name?"

"Hey, I've been busy!" I protested. "What do _you_ want to call him?"

"Hmm," she mused. "Cougar," she declared. "He looks kinda like one, anyway, don't you think?"

"Cougar it is, then."


	3. Germination 1-2

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.2_

Like everything, my telepathy had its limits. Mostly, it seemed to be based on how familiar I was with the subject. The Invid brain in the basement, I knew intimately well, so it was the clearest; I could communicate with it from pretty much anywhere in the city. Dad, I could sense from halfway across the city, but I still could only get emotional impressions. Emma, maybe half that.

The presence that followed me home from Emma's that night was growing more and more familiar.

At first, I thought it was coincidence. After a few days, though, I was a lot more suspicious.

I wanted to confront whoever it was, but a voice of reason in the back of my mind warned me not do anything rash. So I prepared first.

Transmutation was tiring. I nearly passed out when I created Cougar, but he was a good fifteen hundred pounds. The body armor and particle blaster I made had considerably less mass, especially since the armor was scaled down to fit me, and I still had some growing to do.

Whoever was following me was almost certainly watching the house. It was a good thing I didn't need to use the door.

By this time, I was familiar enough with my stalker's presence to pinpoint his location pretty well, even from across the street. It was a simple enough matter to teleport behind him.

I just wish teleporting didn't involve glowing like Purity on an off-day.

I had to applaud my stalker's reflexes. The black-cloaked figure spun around less than a second after I teleported. A crossbow was half-raised before he stopped.

"You."

She. It was a girl, and with her height and voice, she couldn't be much older than I was. She wore a black cloak over a black bodysuit. Some hard sections covered her vitals, and her face was concealed behind a hockey mask.

There was something familiar about her.

My grip on the particle blaster tightened.

What was odd was that I wasn't sensing any hostility or fear from her, despite the fact that I had just appeared behind her and was holding a tinkertech pistol. Instead, I was sensing... excitement?

That put me on my guard. The Invid had fought many people over the years. Most fought out of fear or hatred. Others fought for duty; the most dangerous were invariably counted among their number. The most vicious, however, were those who fought solely for the pleasure of it.

Regardless, I nodded. "Me. Care to explain why you've been following me?"

"You're the one," she said simply. "You made it, didn't you? The hellcat. The perfect predator."

Abruptly, I recognized her. "You were on the rooftop when Emma was attacked." I raised my arm up and leveled the blaster. "Why didn't you help her?"

"I was going to!" she said defensively. "But that beautiful creation of yours didn't give me much chance."

Brr.

"I'm Shadow Stalker," she said. "I... wanted to meet you."

What.

"Why?" I asked warily.

"That hellcat of yours," she said. "It's obviously some kind of tinkertech. I wanted to see the one who made it."

My hand tightened around the blaster.

"What I saw in that alley," she continued, "that's the work of someone willing to take decisive action, someone with the _strength_ to make a hard choice and see it through. At least, that's what I figured. You weren't actually there, after all, so I had to find out if I was right."

"And were you?"

"You're here, aren't you?" she said. I tilted my head questioningly. "You caught me out," she elaborated. "I showed up in your territory, and here you are, pointing some tinkertech ray gun at me instead of hiding and calling the cops or the PRT. That thing have a stun mode?"

"No." I'd been working on something that could stun - maybe fine tune one of the particle beam guns into a low-amperage electron gun - but I just hadn't had the time to figure it out yet.

"Figured." She actually seemed _pleased_ at the confirmation that I was pointing a lethal weapon at her. "We could do a lot together, you know, really take the fight to the gangs. I mean, I'm pretty good, and so are you, obviously, but we could do so much more. Like wolves bringing down a grizzly."

I blinked. "So, you want to... what? Team up?"

She nodded. "Sign of faith?" she offered, reaching up to her mask.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"I've seen your face," she said with a shrug. "I figure it's only fair you see mine." She pulled her mask off, revealing a dark-skinned girl who, as I had already figured, was about my age.

"My name's Sophia," she said. "Sophia Hess."

I hesitated for a moment. But she had already seen my face and knew where I lived; with that, finding my name would be trivial, assuming she didn't already know it.

"Taylor," I said finally, lowering the particle blaster. "Taylor Hebert."


	4. Interlude 1A - Emma

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Interlude 1A - Emma_

Something inside Emma Barnes had broken that night in the alley, and she knew it.

She just didn't know what to do about it. A week after that night, she'd even gone back to the alley, looking for... something. That creature that had saved her? The person in the cloak on the rooftop? She wasn't sure.

Whatever she had been looking for, though, she hadn't found it. The blood and body parts had been scrubbed clean, leaving the alley probably cleaner than it had been in years. At least she'd gotten some answers when Taylor returned from camp, along with the reassurance that Cougar wouldn't let anything happen to her.

It still wasn't enough.

Emma frowned. She was supposed to meet Taylor on the Boardwalk to hang out, maybe do a little shopping.

That... _looked_ like Taylor, sitting on the bench, but who was that other girl she was chatting with?

"-and she's stronger than you think."

The other girl - dark-skinned, slender, with long, straight hair - merely snorted.

"Taylor?" she hazarded.

The first girl looked up - it _was_ Taylor - and a smile bloomed on her face. "Ems!" she called out, standing up and holding her arms out.

Emma tried not to flinch at the reminder of her weakness and instead embraced her best friend. Before, Taylor wouldn't have hesitated to initiate a hug; she had waited for Emma's benefit, because of how fragile - how _weak_ \- she was.

"Ems," Taylor said, "I'd like you to meet Sophia. Sophia, this is Emma."

"'Sup?" Sophia said.

Emma frowned again.

* * *

Shopping wasn't the same. Emma couldn't find it within herself to muster her usual enthusiasm. Sophia was obviously disinclined, and Emma couldn't shake the feeling the other girl was studying her, _judging_ her somehow. Taylor tried to pick up the slack, but she... well, she'd never really had much of an eye for fashion. That, at least, brought a faint smile to Emma's face.

Still, Emma couldn't shake the question: Was Taylor... replacing her? Dumping the best friend who'd proven herself so weak in favor of this Sophia girl who simply radiated "don't mess with me"?

At one point, she found herself waiting with Sophia was Taylor was in a dressing room.

"I don't know why she bothers with you," Sophia sneered.

Emma felt her fingers start curling up and forced her hands open. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" It came out harsher than she'd intended.

"Taylor," Sophia said. "She's strong, like me. All three of us have been through some pretty bad shit, and she and I, we came out stronger for it. We rose to the challenge. But you? You _broke_."

Emma didn't even remember throwing the punch.

"Huh," Sophia said. "You've got some fire in you. Maybe Taylor was right about you after all."


	5. Germination 1-3

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.3_

Emma was hurting inside, and for all my powers, I didn't know what to do. Cougar helped - it was amazing how comforting having a 1,500-pound, bulletproof bodyguard with steel-rending claws could be - and so did Sophia; after a tense few hours, the two had hit it off surprisingly well.

Well, kind of. In an antagonistic friendship sort of way.

Emma wanted to be strong. Cougar's strength supported her, while Sophia helped bolster her inner strength. But there were places even Cougar couldn't follow, and that inner strength meant nothing if she didn't have the physical strength to back it up.

None of the technology the Regess had acquired from the people of that other Earth would help, not unless Emma was willing to spend the rest of her life in tinkertech armor, anyway.

Using Tirolian genetic engineering to make her a stronger body and transfer her consciousness to it required equipment I could neither transmute nor build without far more resources than I currently had.

Plus, that was probably not a good idea in general. Best to avoid possible existential identity issues.

The bioengineering experiments the Regess had done on occupied Earth would leave her looking like an inhuman monster, and the cybernetics... well, even if she wasn't still growing, the risks were too great.

That left one option. It wasn't... _quite_ right, and I wasn't sure I was ready for it.

But this was for Emma.

I picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Ems?"

"Taylor, hi. What's up?"

"Do you think can come over tonight?"

* * *

"Emma," I said quietly. We were in my bedroom, and I began pacing, while Emma sat on my bed. "I don't... I'm not sure if this is the right thing to do, but I... I don't know what else I _can_ do."

"What is it, Taylor?" she asked. "You're... you're kinda scaring me."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Sorry," I said. "I forget, sometimes."

"Forget what?"

"That you can't hear the thoughts behind my words," I answered, turning to face her again. I leaned against the wall. "You know what I told you, about how I created Cougar?"

Emma knew almost everything; Sophia thought I was just a Tinker.

"Yeah?"

"I can do that to you too," I said quietly. "If you want."

"You can make me stronger?"

"A little bit," I clarified. "You wouldn't be getting a Brute rating from it, but... yeah, you'd be stronger, faster, tougher. You'd be able to communicate mentally with me and Cougar and any others I transmute." I cracked a faint smile. "You'd eventually be able to fly and teleport, but that'll take a lot of time and practice."

"What's the downside?" she asked. "You wouldn't be acting like this if there wasn't one, Taylor."

"It'd be permanent," I said with a sigh. "You wouldn't be quite human anymore. I mean, you'd still look the same, but..." I paused, "I'll show you what I mean."

I plucked safety pin from my closet and pricked my finger, turning it over so she could see. Dark green blood beaded out of the tiny wound, and Emma stared at it.

"Do you see, Ems?" I asked. "I'm not really human anymore. Haven't been since I got my powers. And neither will you, if we do this. You'll be like me, but... less powerful."

She took my hand and grabbed a tissue, carefully dabbing up my alien blood, my _Invid_ blood.

"So what?" she asked. "Human or not, you're still you, Taylor, and I'll still be me." She smiled. "Frankly, as far as monstrous capes go, I think green blood is pretty tame."

I closed my eyes. She didn't understand. I don't think she _could_ , not without the memories I had of _invading_ Earth.


	6. Germination 1-4

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.4_

I never got why other kids want to "rule the school." I still don't. I mean, I was never very sociable in school; Emma was pretty much my only friend, and I didn't really "hang out" with any of the various clubs or cliques. I just... never saw the point, and my classmates generally ignored me in return.

Somehow, though, that had changed.

It hadn't really been all that long before summer break ended, and when we went back to school... well, things got weird.

Well, weird _er_. After so long with just Emma for a friend, I had trouble adjusting to the concept of having Sophia as a friend too.

If she _was_ a friend. I still wasn't too clear on that point.

Sophia liked to mess with people. She was- okay, she was a bully, but in a weird way. She didn't really seem to get any pleasure from hurting anyone; it was more of a weird "demonstrating her dominance" thing than anything else. Like a couple of dogs staring each other down.

Okay, Sophia was weird, period.

Still, I had to put a stop to that.

Sophia was messing with some guy - Gary? Greg? Something like that - so I grabbed her shoulder and tugged her back with a glare. She met my gaze, giving me an unreadable look, then shrugged and walked off.

I could practically _feel_ everyone's eyes on me.

It wasn't until lunch time that I realized how much the social dynamics had changed.

* * *

Her name was Madison, and thank goodness Emma was there to run interference. I didn't know why she'd come to sit with us, but she had - though she steered clear of Sophia - and she _wouldn't stop talking_. I nearly went cross-eyed as I tried to keep up with what they were saying.

 _You know, I can't even follow_ half _of what you two are talking about._

 _That's because you never paid attention to fashion,_ Emma retorted. Her words to Madison hadn't missed a beat; she was getting better at this.

I smiled, shook my head slightly, and tuned them out again as I focused back on my lunch.

Biotransmutation into a _solugi_ had helped Emma more than I'd hoped. It had... stabilized her. If you knew her really well and looked really closely, you could see the physical changes: Her build was a touch more slender, her muscles more toned; her face had a more fine-boned definition to it, and she'd grown about half an inch taller. But most importantly, she moved with a confidence I hadn't seen in her since I had left for camp.

Her thoughts still echoed with fear and pain, but it was under control now, enough that she had taken to going on late night walks with Cougar.

I didn't ask about that - I wasn't about to pry - but the Invid brain kept me up to date on Cougar's movements.

Speaking of which, I needed a new place to put it. I couldn't keep it in my basement forever; Dad would find it eventually if I tried. There was that thing I'd been slowly setting up, but I wasn't sure how ready it was yet.

I shoved that thought aside as I got up and headed over to dispose of my trash, Emma and Sophia trailing behind me, with Sophia gracefully nudging Madison aside. I rolled my eyes.

"Knock it off, Sophia," I said, shaking my head and giving a tired sigh. "Everyone already knows you're top dog around here. You don't have to keep proving it."

She stared at me, honest confusion on her face... then she and Emma both started laughing.

"What?" I asked, looking between them.

"Taylor," Emma said, giving me a one-armed hug, "she's not top dog around here. You are."

I blinked.

"Do I have to be?"


	7. Interlude 1B - Sophia

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Interlude 1B - Sophia_

Sophia _wasn't_ prey.

Once she'd had time to pull herself together that night, she'd recognized what she'd seen. That creature, that... hellcat- it hadn't been human. She was sure of that. It didn't act like a human, it didn't move like a human, and she was damn sure it wasn't a Changer. That meant a projection of some kind or a Tinker killbot. Emphasis on the "kill."

And Sophia had run from it. She _wasn't_ prey... but predators didn't run scared. Except from a bigger, nastier predator, which put whoever created it firmly above her on the food chain.

She'd gone back to the alley, again and again, hoping to find it, or at least some clue to who its master was. For a week, she'd seen no sign of the beast, but then, she had been surprised to see the redhead coming back. Took guts, that did, but Sophia had had bigger concerns. Because that's when she'd realized someone had set the hellcat up to be the redhead's bodyguard.

She'd followed her, tracked her, hoping to find the hellcat's creator. And after a few days effort, she'd finally found what she'd been looking for.

The Tinker, Taylor, had proven to be everything she had hoped and more for when they finally met face to face. She'd gotten behind Sophia somehow - probably some tinkertech teleporter - all armored up and ready to blast her to smithereens, demanding she explain herself. No hesitation, no weakness, just strength and decisive action. A perfect predator, with eyes that _knew_ what her creation had done in that alley that night.

And yet, she'd seen something of value in the redhead.

To be honest, despite the fact that she'd had the guts to return to the alley a week later, Sophia just hadn't seen it. She'd seen the way the girl's hands shook, the way she twitched when she caught a sudden movement in the corner of her eye. She'd let what happened break her, make her weak.

At least, that's what Sophia had thought, until Emma had snapped and punched her in the face.

And now, Shadow Stalker looked over from her perch on the rooftop to her new patrol partner. The other girl's costume was fairly basic, dark blue panels sewn into a black racing suit, with a matching blue biker helmet. All in all, her costume matched well with Cougar, whom she was sure was nearby, even if she couldn't see him.

It didn't make sense. She'd dismissed the girl as _prey_ \- she'd certainly _acted_ like it until that punch - but Taylor had somehow seen her potential, and now she was even joining Shadow Stalker on patrol. It was... unnatural.

"C'mon, Hellcat," Shadow Stalker said. "Let's go."

* * *

Shadow Stalker gave Hellcat another peculiar look before peering back through the window into the warehouse. Inside were some Merchants, harvesting spores from the new plant that had started cropping up a few months ago.

"Good eye," she said. "How did you-?"

Hellcat shrugged. "I just... felt it."

Shadow Stalker frowned but shook it off. Instead, she looked around for Cougar. "I'm guessing Cougar's around."

"He is."

"How much control did Taylor give you over him?"

"Enough," Hellcat said. "I'm pretty sure he won't kill anyone this time." Shadow Stalker nodded at the oblique reference to the alley. Hellcat took a moment to study the warehouse, then added, "I'll send him around through the garage door, tear it open. Maybe these guys'll be smart enough to surrender."

Shadow Stalker snorted. "Somehow, I doubt that." She paused, then added gruffly, "Just make sure you stay in one piece."

Taylor would have her hide if anything happened to her.

She shifted to her shadow state and drifted through a window, taking up a position opposite the loading bay doors, and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. The shriek of tearing metal heralded Cougar's entrance as he tore through the steel rolling door like it was made of aluminum foil.

"You may want to consider surrendering," Hellcat suggested from where she stood behind Cougar.

After a moment of stunned silence, the Merchants exploded into action. Four of them tried to run for the door below where Shadow Stalker was perched, while others armed themselves and opened fire on Cougar and Hellcat.

Hellcat dove for cover as Cougar launched himself into the fray. The killbot had his claws fisted to avoid killing anyone, but he still packed quite a wallop.

For her part, Shadow Stalker fired off her loaded crossbow bolt, pinning the foot of one of the Merchants heading her way to the floor, then dropped down. She was a pretty good at hand to hand, particularly for a girl who was only thirteen (almost fourteen!); her style wasn't anything fancy or flashy, just what one learned in the eternal school of hard knocks.

The first Merchant that was trying to flee - a middle-aged man with a straggly brown beard in ratty jeans, a checkered shirt, and ball cap - merely stepped back and blinked in surprise, leaving him wide open. She took advantage, and he doubled over and stumbled back, clutching his groin.

The two behind him - one male, one female - paused and spread out, wary looks on their faces. They were younger, teenagers, maybe early twenties, and with the way they moved, they obviously knew each other, lovers perhaps, or siblings; Shadow Stalker didn't care. The guy wore jeans and a stained wife-beater, while the girl wore a tank top that was threadbare enough to be distracting to some and a pair of daisy dukes. She flipped out a switchblade, while he kicked up a length of pipe and twirled it in a demonstration of surprising dexterity.

Shadow Stalker straightened up and waved them forward.

The two separated, obviously trying to flank her. Behind her hockey mask, Shadow Stalker smiled... and let them, turning to face the girl. After a moment, the girl lunged forward with the knife. Shadow Stalker dodged, then turned at the faint whisper of the pipe swinging through the air. Shifting to her shadow form, she allowed the pipe to pass harmlessly through her before shifting back and punching him in the throat before he could recover from his swing.

Shadow Stalker turned back to the girl and charged. She ducked under the girl's wild swings and pummeled her into submission.

Shadow Stalker took a moment to catch her breath and looked around. All the Merchants seemed to be unconscious and accounted for. This was awesome! She'd never have risked actually hitting even a Merchant base on her own, but with Hellcat and Cougar backing her up...

Her thoughts ground to a halt.

"Hellcat, what the hell are you doing?"

The other vigilante was tying a bunch of the weird plant to Cougar.

Shadow Stalker's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "What exactly are you planning on doing with a bunch of drugs?"

"What?" Hellcat squawked. "I don't care about the drugs. These idiots inhale the spores because they're too stupid to realize what the Flower itself can do. T- _she_ will need them." Hellcat paused. "She can use it for power."

"Oh." Shadow Stalker gave the plants a more speculative look. She frowned. "How do you know that?"

Hellcat paused.

"I... don't know."


	8. Germination 1-5

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.5_

"Say that again," I said. Dad was working late again, and we had the house to ourselves.

Emma and Sophia exchanged awkward looks.

"The Merchants were harvesting spores from the Flower of Life," Emma said. "So we stopped them and brought the Flowers here. I know you can use them."

I shook my head. "No. Not that part," I said. "Before that. The part about you going out and _fighting crime without telling me_ , Emma."

Emma looked down sheepishly, then lifted a foot and started poking the floor with her toes.

"Ems..." I trailed off.

What was there to say to this?

"Sorry," she murmured. "I... didn't want to worry you, Taylor."

I sighed. "So you went without me."

She hesitated. "...yeah."

There had to be more to it than that, but I wasn't about to invade her mind to find out. I thought about discussing the Invid instincts Emma seemed to have picked up instead, but - my eyes flicked over to Sophia - maybe later. That was something between just the two of us. For now, at least.

I didn't begrudge her the desire to be a hero. The problem was, I just wasn't _ready_ yet. I was pretty sure I'd figured out a nonlethal particle blaster design, but I hadn't tested it yet, and I didn't have a clue how long my next project would take, since I couldn't just transmute it straight out of my head. Most of what I was already building was more suited to war than crime fighting.

I looked at them and stood up. "Come on," I said. "It's about time I showed you the new lab."

Sophia looked up. "New lab?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I needed to get the Invid brain out of the basement before Dad stumbled across it. The armor I made for you is over there."

"Cool," Sophia said with a smile.

"We should probably go in costume," I said. "Just in case." At Sophia's expression, I added, "Don't worry. No one's going to see us leave."

A few minutes later, we were in costume. My costume wasn't particularly fancy: the same _solugi_ armor I'd worn to confront Sophia; I was working on a replacement set of armor, complete with face-concealing helmet, for later. Emma had the Flower of Life they had liberated from the Merchants strapped to her back. I'd have to do something about them eventually; letting them continue to misuse the Flower of Life was simply unacceptable.

"Now, I don't know how this is going to feel to you," I warned them a few minutes later. "I've never brought anyone with me before."

They both nodded.

"We trust you, Taylor," Emma said.

I nodded and closed my eyes. Taking their hands in mine, I focused. I could feel space folding around us. When I opened my eyes...

"Sophia, no!"

She paused but didn't lower her crossbow or drop out of her shadow state. Emma, though, simply stood there with an odd expression on her face.

I... probably should have mentioned the lab guardian.

"It's a Crann," I said. "A local command and surveillance unit. I made it to guard the lab."

Sophia finally dropped out of her shadow state, then looked at me like I was crazy. "You built _that_ as a security guard?"

Well... I could understand that. The Crann was about 2,500 pounds, the largest thing I'd transmuted yet. If it straightened up to its full height, it would stand over ten feet tall.

Technically, I suppose, the Malar suits would serve the role of lab security much better, but that would mean creating _malarosm_ , and I just wasn't comfortable with that.

"It's the best design I had to work with," I offered with a shrug.

Sophia just gave me a deadpan look before shaking her head and looking around.

The "lab" wasn't much, an abandoned warehouse in the Docks; there were a lot of them. I'd had to clean it up, then teleport the Invid brain here so Dad wouldn't find it. The Crann was, like I told Sophia, just there to keep the place safe. There were a couple of tables; Sophia had already found the armor I'd made for her on one of them. It was the same design as the body armor I'd thrown together to confront her with, only it was colored black with grey highlights instead of the red and green mine was. I'd brought a curtain in to partition the warehouse in half.

"Emma," I said, "you'll want to check out the corner over- ah, you found him already."

Another recon Inorganic like Cougar padded forward at Emma's command. He leaned his head down to nuzzle her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Smiling, I took the Flowers of Life they had brought me and ducked through the curtain. On this side, I was incubating a few _iigaari_ and building some Iigau units. The _iigaari_ \- unlike the _gurab'pa_ or _malarosm_ \- were only about as smart as a really clever dog, and the Iigau were pretty big: only about nine feet tall compared to the Crann but much wider and a full five tons. Like the Crann, I was making them in sections. I was also processing protoculture here.

In the end, it all came down to protoculture. It _always_ did.

The particle blaster ran off an advanced power cell, but anything larger needed protoculture. That included the Cougars, the Crann, the Iigau I was making, and just about everything else on my "to make" list.

I had been limited to whatever Flowers I could scavenge from the wild or grow discreetly in our back yard, and I'd been contemplating expanding my cultivation efforts somehow. What Emma and Sophia had brought me would boost my supply considerably.

Perhaps even enough to spare some for the evolution of my own power.

"Holy shit."

I spun. "Sophia."

She was, once again, staring at one of my creations, this time the biological construct that I was using to process the Flower of Life into protoculture. I could feel a mixture of wonder and disgust roiling off of her. I felt vaguely insulted. It may have lacked the clean lines of hard tech, but it was _elegant_ and natural, not like the lumbering, brutish, "efficient" method the Betrayer's matrix used.

"What _is_ it?" she asked, her voice almost... reverent.

I paused to consider my answer.

"Power."


	9. Interlude 1C - Colin

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Interlude 1C - Colin_

Hyperinvasive Biological Tinkertech #3: Sample #85, chemical analysis.

Colin Wallis - better known as Armsmaster - sat comfortably in his workshop and perused the report. HBT #3 was the big mystery of the New England area, a flowering plant of obviously tinkertech origin that reproduced through spores. It first cropped up over a year ago and spread fast enough that it was hard to pinpoint where it originated, save that it was from _somewhere_ in New England. So far, it wasn't threatening agriculture, and it _seemed_ mostly harmless - the only thing questionable about it was that the Merchants had discovered that, in high enough concentrations, its spores were hallucinogenic - but it had already spread across most of North America.

Blasto remained the prime suspect, despite the unknown animal that seemed to associate itself with HBT #3, but there was still enough doubt that the pre-authorized kill order hanging over the Boston villain's head had yet to be issued. Colin was one of the doubters.

Sample #85 had been broken down, run through a centrifuge, and the separated layers analyzed with a mass spectrometer. The results, from what the report indicated, were nothing special.

The fact that HBT #3 appeared to be harmless was a relief in some respects, but it raised ever more questions, most significantly... why?

His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Armsmaster?"

"Hmm?" Colin blinked, looking up from the report. "Chris," he said, "come in."

The teenager - unmasked, hence why Colin had used his civilian name - hesitated in the doorway briefly, then stepped in. He noticed the boy was clutching some papers in his hand, and he felt an eyebrow rise. _New ideas?_ he wondered.

Chris - Kid Win - was the Wards' latest recruit, so new he practically squeaked. He was also Colin's current pet project. Any Tinker was a veritable gold mine, and, he was certain, they just needed to figure out what Chris's Tinker specialty was before the Protectorate ENE could reap the benefits.

If only the boy had more focus.

Chris was beginning to show an unfortunate pattern. He would get a burst of inspiration, but it never seemed to carry him through. For the moment, Colin wasn't too worried. Once they found his niche, things would fall into place.

"Got some new designs there?"

"Um, something like that," Chris said hesitantly. He held out the documents, and Colin felt both eyebrows rise this time.

This was a much larger project than anything he had expected, some sort of transforming fighter plane that bore a faint resemblance to the old F-14 Tomcats.

Perhaps that was it? Had they been focusing on too small a scale?

Colin set that question aside for the moment as he studied the diagrams and the accompanying notes. Vehicles weren't really his specialty, and neither was robotics, but miniaturization covered a lot. The design definitely wasn't conventional technology, not with such a radical implementation of variable geometry, but... it...

"This is... impressive work," he said, impressed. "In fact, with the number of conventional components listed, I think we can safely say Dragon would be very interested in this." He looked up and gave the teenager a proud smile. " _Very_ good, Chris."

"Yeah, about that," the teenager hedged. "It isn't mine."

"What?" Colin frowned. That didn't make sense. "Then where-?"

"It was sent to me on PHO," Chris said. "Well, to Kid Win, anyway. From 'The' underscore 'Betrayed,' asking how viable it was. I sort of... did some... backtracking. It was uploaded from somewhere in the city, but that's all I know for sure. I... thought you should know."

Colin took another look at the diagram. Vehicles weren't his specialty, but they _were_ Squealer's. On the other hand, this definitely lacked her distinctive... "style," and she would have no reason to forward such a design to a local Ward. Which meant...

Chris spoke up, giving voice to Colin's thoughts.

"There's another new Tinker in town."

* * *

"Well? What do you think?"

"This design is remarkable, Colin," Dragon said. "It calls for some unusual materials, but with the attached notes on the metallurgical composition, I don't think I'll have much trouble replicating the novel alloys."

"So it's functional? You can reverse-engineer it?"

"No, Colin," she said, "I'm saying someone already _has_. This isn't just a tinkertech design; it's a _production_ model. Except for the alloys and the power source - the schematics are vague on what it runs on, so we'd need some sort of tinkertech power cell - we could hand this off to Boeing or Lockheed as-is and begin mass production, and it's even simpler to maintain than a modern conventional fighter."

"That's..." Colin paused as he considered that. "I knew the design was impressive, but I didn't realize it was that good."

"I want to meet this Tinker, Colin. Just think of what we could accomplish together."

He grimaced.

"Yes, well... we're working on that," he said, "but between the Merchants harvesting HBT Three and Shadow Stalker and her new partner, we've been busy."

Dragon cocked her head to the side. "Shadow Stalker? Isn't she an independent hero?"

"Officially," Colin answered, "but we're not so sure anymore; she's been skirting the line on excessive force for a while now. Recently, she's found a partner - a Master, goes by Hellcat - and they're escalating."

"Escalating?"

"Previously, Shadow Stalker limited herself to violent crimes in progress: muggings, rapes, and so on. Two months ago, she and Hellcat hit a warehouse the Merchants were using to harvest spores from HBT Three." He paused. "We've kept it out of the official records, in case it's a mistake, but... the amount of HBT Three the pick up team found in the warehouse doesn't match what the perps say was there. It's short about two bushels."


	10. Germination 1-6

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.6_

I wanted to be a hero, not a killer. That's why I hadn't gone out and joined Emma and Sophia yet. But I was almost ready.

The latest particle blaster designs _finally_ had a functional stun setting; I made three, using the style of the Earth-built modular Gallant H-90, one for each of us. I also made some body armor for Emma, in blue and black to match the colors she'd already chosen, and another recon Inorganic; she'd named the two new ones Lynx and Puma. The Crann now had an Odeon backing it up, and the first two Iigau were operational. I was using the Iigau to scout out the bay; the warehouse just wasn't going to work in the long term for aerial assets.

Transmutation was so _easy_ now. I was taking it slowly, but ever since I'd started consuming the Flower of Life a couple of months ago, my mass limits had been growing leaps and bounds. In time, transmuting away the Boat Graveyard might even be possible, but I wasn't going to hold my breath. The ferry Dad was trying to get running again, on the other hand, was looking a lot more probable.

But that was for later. All that was needed before I could actually go out in costume was to adapt one more thing into something I could transmute.

It was frustrating, sometimes. The Invid technology, I knew it so well that I could easily transmute it, each part and component falling into place perfectly. All I needed was enough mass. The technology from the Tirolians and from that other Earth was... less clear.

I tried starting off with something simple. Most of what the Regess had studied was military gear, so the aforementioned Gallant H-90 had seemed like a reasonable starting point. It... didn't quite work out at first, not until I'd started incorporating Invid components into the design.

I sketched out what I could. A lot of the Earth tech didn't really seem all that advanced, but translating it so that I could transmute it properly was... challenging.

Which was I had tried something different last week. The Valkyrie wasn't something I ever saw myself using, but if a Tinker Ward could understand it, then the government could use it. Visions of the PRT fully equipped with powered armor and laser rifles filled my mind. With that kind of firepower, they could finally do something about cleaning up the city.

School was still weird, but I was getting used to it, and I guess it sort of made sense. Emma was queen of the rich clique, while Sophia basically ruled the jocks. As their friend, that had catapulted me to the top.

Still weird.

At the moment, the Iigau were scouting out an underwater cave system they'd detected a couple of miles north of the city, and I was working on my next major project.

I'd already replaced my _solugi_ armor with a modified version of what the humans of that other world classified as CVR-3F Cyclone veritech ride armor. As a general armor design, it wasn't too difficult to transmute, though the interface connections had been tricky, and I'd needed to make some modifications, including to the helmet; a transparent visor just wasn't going to cut it.

But that was only the first step.

I began to transmute.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later - I'd had to make several adjustments on the fly - and it was done. With a tired smile, I admired my work for a moment, then turned. Ducking through the curtain again, I retrieved a protoculture cell and return, carefully installing it into the new Cyclone.

I had donned my helmet and was just about to try transforming when the door burst open.

I spun as my lab - my _sanctuary_ \- was invaded. The intruders stopped, and my eyes darted between them. There were five of them. Four of them were gangbangers wearing ABB colors, toting guns: three with AKs, the fourth with a pump shotgun. And in front was...

"Oni Lee."

 _Shit._

"You will come with us," Oni Lee declared.

"I'm a _Tinker_ ," I scoffed as I straddled the Cyclone. "You're _in my lab_. Consider your next step _very carefully_."

For added measure, I had the Crann and Odeon step forward menacingly.

Not that they could really be _un_ menacing. The Crann stood over ten feet tall, the Odeon was twice its size, and the lasers they carried could cut through tank armor.

The four gangbangers looked a lot less confident. One of them opened his mouth to say something.

And that's when everything exploded.


	11. Germination 1-7

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.7_

I quickly lost track of Oni Lee's backup as I triggered the Cyclone's transformation sequence and felt it wrap around me, but frankly, if they hadn't run the moment Oni Lee started blowing everything up, they were dumber than they looked.

Besides, I had other things to worry about.

 _Fucking Movers._ And yes, I realize that was more than a little hypocritical.

The problem with fighting Oni Lee is that it's basically like fighting a small army... a suicidal small army with an infinite supply of grenades, ammunition, and reinforcements.

Grenades detonated everywhere. Most of the damage was cosmetic, but he'd already wrecked my protoculture bioprocessor. The Crann and Odeon were unharmed - they were built to fight other mecha, after all - but they had trouble pinning him down without their lasers.

Yeah, shooting anti-tank lasers indoors was just a recipe for disaster.

My first cape fight was, honestly, a little disappointing. Okay, granted, I tried to dodge. At first. I wasn't entirely successful, as hitting my thrusters to get above the explosions just gave him a clear shot.

I knew the armor was pretty good, and I was fairly certain it would stop small arms fire, but until then, I hadn't really had the opportunity to test it. As it turned out, I was right. His bullets pinged off the armor without even leaving a scratch.

The two guns mounted in the Cyclone's front chest fairings were a hybrid design, like most of the mecha. The external casings were scaled down versions of the Iigau's plasma cannons, but internally, they were full-auto pulse particle blasters, one of the hardest parts of the design. They weren't terribly practical for truly long-range combat, and their effective field of fire was only roughly a thirty-degree cone directly in front, but for this situation, they were ideal, as I sprayed the area with low-amperage electron bolts that were designed to stun.

Several of Oni Lee's clones puffed to ashes they were struck, while others dropped smoke grenades, and ash and smoke filled the lower level of the warehouse. The two Inorganics were still clearly visible, towering over the smoke and flame as they swiped at Oni Lee.

I had paused, hovering in mid-air as I tried to get my bearings, when another shot rang out. I jerked my head back in surprise as a round "spang"-ed harmlessly off my helmet. Reflexively, I returned fire, peppering that general direction with more stun bolts.

I made a mental note to work on some advanced sensors when I had the chance.

The room went silent.

 _Was that it?_ I wondered as I slowly lowered myself to the ground. I looked around. The ash and smoke began to settle, and there was no sign of either Oni Lee or any other ABB member.

"Damn it," I muttered as I took stock of the damage. The two Inorganics were unharmed - it would take more than a few grenades and some small arms fire to damage them - but the Invid brain was shredded, as was the protoculture processor. The rest was easily replaceable, but those two...

 _I really hope those caves work out._ With that thought in mind, I gave the _iigaari_ a mental ping, then smiled faintly at their report.

That was one less thing to worry about. Still, the loss of the brain meant Emma and I would have to personally direct the Inorganics; the Couger types would revert back to their baser instincts, while the Odeon was only smart enough to obey simple commands.

I heard a faint rumble outside through the Crann's enhanced audio receptors and turned warily, taking a moment to grab the H-90 from my workbench. I could see headlights blazing through the door Oni Lee had broken open. I tapped further into the Crann's advanced sensor suite. It was a motorcycle, and there was no sign of anyone besides the rider in the immediate vicinity.

Wouldn't Oni Lee have brought more reinforcements?

Heavy footsteps announced the biker's approach, and I leveled the rifle at the door, taking a brief moment to ensure it was in stun mode.

Whoever it was finally stepped into the doorway, and I lowered the particle gun in startled recognition.

"Armsmaster?"

Armsmaster, leader of the Protectorate ENE, and one of the most prominent heroes in the Protectorate as a whole. He was a hero; in Brockton Bay, he was _the_ hero, perhaps even, some said, the next _Hero_.

He gave the Crann and Odeon each a wary look, and I mentally ordered them back. I could sense his tension level drop a fraction, but he didn't show it, holding his halberd defensively.

"Hero or villain?" he asked warily.

Beneath my helmet, I scowled at the insinuation... but on second thought, I could understand it. "Hero," I said. "Call me... Regess." The name _felt_ right.

He nodded and looked around. His gaze fell on the table I had used as my workbench. I actually felt a little embarrassed at my tool selection. With transmutation and off-the-shelf parts, I hadn't really felt the need for any tools more exotic than, well, a set of screwdrivers and wrenches.

"There were reports of explosions in the vicinity," he said finally. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"Oni Lee came by with a recruitment offer," I said. "I... declined."

"I see," he said. He paused. "I haven't heard of you before. You're new, aren't you?"

"First cape fight," I admitted. "Fortunately, my armor stops small arms fire."

"Always a good thing," he said, nodding. "The ABB will be back, though. You know that, right?"

"And I won't be here," I answered with a shrug. "I already have a new location lined up, much more secure than an abandoned warehouse." On that note, I mentally ordered the Odeon and Crann to start gathering up what they could. There wasn't much that was salvageable, but every little bit would help.

"Listen," Armsmaster said. "Independents don't tend to last very long in this town; that goes double for Tinkers like us. _Everyone_ wants Tinkers; what happened here tonight is proof enough of that. The Protectorate can protect you, give you funding, a secure lab and workshop with state of the art - even tinkertech - tools, and access to other affiliated Tinkers. Even a salary if you sign on full time."

I could _feel_ his eagerness as he gave me the spiel.

I was pretty popular tonight. That made the second recruitment pitch I'd heard in less than an hour. This one, however, was a lot more palatable than Oni Lee's had been, even if it was obvious he hadn't realized how young I was; I guess there were advantages to being tall and wearing fully-enclosed body armor with powered armor wrapped around it. I had no idea yet if Kid Win had been able to make sense of the Valkyrie blueprints I'd sent him; the thought of being _personally_ involved with getting those designs into mass production was very tempting.

A voice interrupted my thoughts.

"No. She will come with me."

Armsmaster turned and backed into the warehouse. Heavy footsteps followed him in, and I raised my H-90 again.

"Lung," Armsmaster hissed.

Three brilliant beams of light lanced out, one from the Odeon and two from the Crann. Lung had about half a second to look surprised before he collapsed.

Armsmaster looked at me again. "What was that?"

"Umm... anti-tank lasers? And maybe a plasma cannon?"


	12. Germination 1-8

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Germination 1.8_

Lung got up.

Honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. He'd fought the entire Protectorate ENE when he came to Brockton Bay, after all. Heck, rumor had it he'd fought an _Endbringer_ one on one.

Still! Anti-tank lasers! Of course, they were heat-based weapons, and Lung was a pyrokinetic. So... did I screw up the design, or did he have some additional base resistance to heat? I didn't know.

"That hurt," he snarled. He was a head taller than he had been just a moment ago.

I _could_ just teleport away. My mass limit was sufficient I could even save my Cyclone and either the Crann and most of my tools or the Odeon. But that would mean leaving Armsmaster to face a pissed off Lung by himself.

Not an option.

Armsmaster tightened his grip on his halberd. Setting my Cyclone's chest blasters and the Gallant to full power, I opened fire. The Crann and Odeon did likewise, and Lung stumbled back half a step, roaring.

This time, though, he didn't go down.

Maybe I should have gone with missiles after all.

With a mental command, the Crann and Odeon charged. They were faster than they looked, and although they didn't have the room to accelerate to full speed, over four tons moving at that speed were still enough to knock the ABB leader back and out into the street.

Armsmaster and I quickly followed them out and watched Lung picked up the Crann and hurled it into the building across the street. That, however, gave the Odeon the opening to pin Lung in place, at least for the moment. The fire around him did nothing to the Inorganic's armor, which was rated for plasma fire, but I could almost _see_ Lung growing.

"That won't hold him for long," Armsmaster said.

"Got anything that will?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said. "I have some tranquilizers. Hopefully, they'll be able to suppress his regeneration."

At that point, Lung overpowered the Odeon and leveraged himself free. He turned and punched the Inorganic, denting its armor and knocking it back. It regained its balance and stumbled off to the side.

I firing my thrusters as I ordered the Crann to charge. I peppered Lung with more particle fire as the Crann pulled him into a full nelson and wrapped its energy flagellum around him. The energy flagellum was a prehensile super-alloy cable capable of eventually cutting through powered armor like my Cyclone, and it could deliver an electric shock capable of stunning someone even through said armor.

At the sudden jolt of electricity, Lung froze in... surprise? Pain? I wasn't sure; it was hard to read through the rage rolling off of him. Armsmaster dashed forward, halberd raised overhead. Lung raised his arms to block both Armsmaster's halberd and my particle blasts, but the Protectorate hero aborted the swing halfway, instead dropping low and jabbing the bottom end of the halberd into Lung's belly, activating something with a pneumatic hiss.

A few seconds later, Lung went limp, his fiery aura dimming, and Armsmaster withdrew.

Landing next to Armsmaster, I asked, "Did it work?"

"I'm not-"

Lung snarled and surged upright. " _I!_ _ **AM!**_ _ **LUNG!**_ " he roared, tearing free of the Crann's grip and then reaching back to tear off its energy flagellum.

"Probably not," Armsmaster amended, walking quickly to his motorcycle as I sent the Odeon back into the fray. "We should leave. Now." He straddled the bike and started it up. "Hop on."

"No need," I said, shifting the Cyclone back into motorcycle mode.

I felt a wave of heat wash over me as we rode away at what _couldn't_ be a safe speed for city driving, let alone legal, but neither of us were inclined to slow down. Warehouses zipped by as we raced down the deserted roads - no one sane wanted to be out in this part of the city at this hour - and I nearly wrecked more than a few times before we left the region nebulously claimed by the ABB.

As we slowed to a halt, I realized I was hyperventilating. I was taking a moment to calm down when someone whistled. "Damn, where's the fire?"

My pulse skyrocketed again as, on reflex, I shifted the Cyclone back into armor mode and jump jetted back, raising my Gallant.

"Whoa! Hey!" the man said, holding his hands up and open toward me, clearly startled. He was standing next to a woman who looked unamused, though her emotions told a different story. "I'm on your side. Um, I think. Armsy? A little help here?"

"Assault. Battery," Armsmaster said, nodding to each in turn. "New Tinker. The ABB tried to recruit her, and she declined. Rather strenuously at that." He twisted over to look at me, offering me a reassuring smile. "Relax. We should be safe now."

At that point, I realized I was still holding the Gallant up. Flicking the power off, I lowered the rifle and attached it to the magnetic clamp on my hip.

"H-hi," I stammered, approaching them tentatively. Assault and Battery, two more members of the Protectorate ENE. PHO disagreed on their exact relationship, but they were definitely close.

"Nice bike, Arcee," Assault commented. "Very much 'more than meets the eye.'"

"You should be proud, _Regess_ ," Armsmaster said, emphasizing the name I'd given him as he glared at Assault. At least, I was fairly certain he was glaring; I couldn't actually see his eyes, after all. He looked back at me. "Not many people fight Lung and get to leave under their own power."

"Lung, huh?" Assault said. "Well, I guess that tells me where the fire is."

Battery swatted the back of his head and pulled out a phone. "I'll let the fire department know to watch for Lung," she said.

"Watch for Lung"? Was that safe? I looked at the three heroes, but none of them seemed concerned. Then again, I supposed it _would_ be stupid of Lung to attack the firefighters; he'd soon be ruling over a kingdom of ashes if he did.

"Will you be okay tonight, Regess?" Armsmaster asked.

I flinched at that. The lab was gone, along with my tools, the Invid brain, the protoculture processor, and both the Crann and Odeon. We'd actually passed my house in our flight from Lung, but I couldn't exactly bring the Cyclone home without Dad finding out, and I wasn't ready for that.

Maybe when I could transmute enough to fix the ferry.

"I know you said you had another location in mind," Armsmaster continued, "but I still urge you to consider the Protectorate. The ABB won't give up, and with the ruckus we made, it won't be long before the Empire comes after you. You got _lucky_ tonight."

" _I_ got lucky?" I echoed. Armsmaster had barely done _anything_ in that fight; his tranquilizers had barely even slowed Lung down.

"Of course," Armsmaster said blithely. "Just think of what would have happened if I hadn't been there when Lung arrived."

"If you hadn't been there when Lung arrived, neither would I," I retorted. "I would have been long gone, _with_ my tools _and_ both Inorganics!"

He scoffed. "How?"

"Like this," I said and teleported away.


	13. Interlude 1D - Thomas

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Interlude 1D - Thomas_

New Tinkers were never as discreet as they thought they were.

Oh, certainly, they _tried_ to conceal themselves. Everyone knew Tinkers were valuable, exploitable, and vulnerable until they had built up enough devices to defend themselves with. Still, one only had to pay attention to the right things to spot a new Tinker.

Most Tinkers were struck by inspiration and built something out of whatever was on hand, only realizing _after_ their project was complete that they actually did still need the washing machine, microwave, and personal computer they had just cannibalized. And that they really should get them replaced. Sudden purchases of odd combinations of appliances and home electronics would normally generate a lot of false positives... until one eliminated those offering trade-ins or purchasing haul away services. A look at past purchase history eliminated other false positives, with some discreet surveillance clearing away the rest.

Other Tinkers had a bit more self control. Instead of gutting whatever they had, they would go seeking what they needed first. They were easy to detect. If someone suddenly bought ten toasters, either he or she was a Tinker, or everyone he or she knew was getting married within a couple of months. If someone who wasn't in the industry suddenly started ordering large quantities of computer components, odds were, he or she was a Tinker.

Still others didn't bother buying their materials. They raided scrapyards and recycling centers and stole from electronics shops instead. It was a risky route to take - people tended to object strenuously, sometimes violently, to theft _unauthorized salvage_ \- but they were the hardest to find, since there were no paper trails leading to their front doors.

This Tinker fell into the last category, raiding the local scrapyard: a couple of tons of missing scrap here and there.

But Thomas Calvert was a patient man.

* * *

 _Attempt #1_

The acquisition had gone off without a hitch. In the hustle and bustle of last minute Christmas shopping, no one noticed when two of his men grabbed the girl in the middle of the crowd; they were professionals, after all, and very good at their jobs. A tinkertech sedative left her unconscious long enough for them to return to base, strip the girl and search her thoroughly for any tinkertech devices, and secure her in her cell.

Beneath his mask, Coil smiled. He probably wasn't going to keep this timeline, but whatever he learned here would help him leverage the girl's cooperation.

The door hissed open, and he walked in.

"Miss Hebert?"

The girl looked at him with a cold and impassive expression. Her eyes narrowed. "And who are you?"

"Coil," he said. "Your new employer."

"Coil," she echoed, tasting the name. She pinned him in place with a look. "I will remember that."

"Wha-?"

There was a flash of light, and she was gone.

"Fuck."

He collapsed the timeline.

* * *

 _Attempt #14_

It had taken him a lot of time and effort, but he'd finally found the Hebert girl's lab. Of course, attacking a Tinker in her own lab was close to suicide, which was why he was sending thirty men, over half the manpower he was willing to admit to. It was a gamble, but one he could afford to make.

And hopefully, they'd find that damn teleportation device she'd kept using to escape the last thirteen times.

At the moment, Coil was watching through a helmet camera his team leader was wearing.

"Go," he ordered.

The team leader kicked the warehouse's back door down.

"You're coming with us," he stated menacingly. Oddly, there seemed to be an echo.

Coil's mercenaries stared at Oni Lee. Oni Lee stared back.

Then everything started exploding. Back at base, Coil groaned.

"Fuck."

He collapsed the timeline.

* * *

 _Attempt #27_

"Hello?"

"Miss Hebert? I have your father."

Kidnapping the union man had been simple enough. They'd gone after him at the Dockworkers' Association's headquarters. One of his mercenaries had gotten a black eye from one of Mr. Hebert's fellow dockworkers, but the man had paid for that mistake with his life.

No one would miss the girl for a while, which was always a bonus. Spring break had just started at her school, after all.

"Who is this?" the girl's voice snarled over the phone.

"My name is Coil."

"Coil," she said coldly. "I will remember that."

Click.

Coil blinked in surprise as she hung up. He turned to look at where he had the prisoner contained, only to see a flash of light.

Daniel Hebert was gone.

 _She'd even implanted her father with a beacon?_

Coil had tried several times to identify whatever beacon she had used to let her teleporter - which he _still_ hadn't found - find her, but eventually gave it up as a lost cause. It was probably biological; the color of her blood demonstrated significant self-modification.

"Fuck."

He collapsed the timeline.

* * *

 _Attempt #36_

It had been difficult - and required a _lot_ of discarded timelines - but now, he felt, he had what he needed to get the Hebert girl on board willingly. This would also serve as a good test of Miss Livesy's... cooperation.

He watched and listened through remote camera surveillance as Miss Livesy approached the Hebert girl on the Boardwalk. Summer always drew in the tourists, and even the Enforcers couldn't watch _everyone_ in the crowd.

"Hi there!" Miss Livesy chirped, plunking herself down across from the brunette.

The Hebert girl blinked. "Umm, hi? I'm kind of waiting on a couple of friends..."

"Oh, this won't take long," the blonde said blithely. "My boss is in the market for someone of your talents, and he wanted me to convey you his offer."

The Hebert girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "My talents?"

"Yep." A nod. "He'd like you to build a few things for him. Exclusively."

"What _kind_ of offer?"

"Welllll..." Miss Livesy said, "he's heard your dad's been pushing to rebuild the ferry - just about everyone within a mile of city hall has - and he thinks he can pull a few strings to make it happen. Plus, you know, cash. Two grand a month retainer, plus materials and commissions. And he's got a _lot_ of contacts that can get him rare stuff."

"I..." she hesitated. "I'll think about it."

"All I can ask," Miss Livesy said, getting up. "Talk to you later."

Coil leaned back in his seat as the two parted ways. The Hebert girl greeted her two friends, then ducked away. Curious.

It wasn't quite what he was hoping for, but...

Suddenly, the video and audio feed died. He blinked. He reached for his phone, but as he did, it rang. He picked it up.

"Boss, we're under attack!"

" _What?_ " Coil hissed. Turning back to his computer, he brought up the security feeds.

He stared.

Robots. Or maybe they were projections. Whatever they were, they ranged from just over ten to a little over twenty feet tall and looked like they'd walked straight out of someone's nightmares.

Wait a minute. He'd seen those designs before, in the timeline in which he'd tried assaulting her lab and run afoul of the ABB doing the same.

And while the tinkertech blasters he'd paid the Toybox so handsomely for were damaging them, they weren't doing it quickly enough, and the robots were returning fire with some kind of energy weapon that melted through whatever his troops tried to take cover behind. The only good news was that they seemed satisfied with using those weapons to destroy cover and not melt his troops, preferring to use hand to hand and the smaller ones' stunning electro-tentacles to disable his men instead.

 _How did they even_ find _me?_ he wondered.

"Fuck."

He collapsed the timeline.

* * *

 _Attempt #44_

Coil watched the feed as the sniper lined up his shot. At this point, he needed some catharsis. The Hebert girl had just stepped outside for her morning run, which, as the days grew shorter, now began in the pre-dawn light.

Crack!

The rifle was suppressed, but the disadvantages of subsonic ammunition outweighed the advantages, under these circumstances. While the gunshot was unmistakeable, no one would be able to determine where the sniper was until he was long gone.

At least, that's what Coil had thought.

The round went low - at this range, aiming for center mass was the smart move - and the Hebert girl stumbled, clutching her belly. Something dark - presumably blood, but it was too dim to see - began spreading on her shirt before she vanished in a flash of light, like she had so many times before.

The sniper was still dismantling his rifle when the two flying crab-like robots arrived. The last thing Coil saw through the video feed was the back side of one of the robots' arms headed for the camera.

"Fuck."

He collapsed the timeline.

Coil split the timeline again. In one, he stood up, stepped out of his office, pulled out his gun, and started shooting. In the other, he just flopped back in his chair. After several minutes and a satisfying body count, he collapsed the first timeline.

If only he could figure out how she kept _finding_ them.

At this point, though, it seemed restricting himself to surveillance on the Hebert girl would have to do. He certainly wasn't getting anything except increased blood pressure with anything else.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to more mundane matters. He considered the latest proposal. It was a series of upgrades to Endbringer shelters that would harden them further, to the point that, if the designer's claims were to be believed, they would even resist a theoretical orbital bombardment - what an _interesting_ choice of benchmark - and the government had opened a contract for limited bidding.

He quickly scratched out a preliminary bid and e-mailed it out.


	14. Growth 2-1

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Growth 2.1_

It was a quiet night, and we were all in costume.

"Hellcat checking in. I'm out by the docks. This place is dead."

I didn't hear the reply. The encryption the PRT used on the Wards-issued communicators were fantastically complex, even harder to crack than the Expeditionary Forces' encryption.

"You don't have to be here for this," I reminded Emma.

"I know," she assured me. Back in April, she'd been recruited into the Wards - a bit forcefully at that - and was technically on probation. Someone had connected the dots and had concluded that she had triggered that night in the alley.

Wrong as it was, it was a reasonable conclusion, and they believed the three Cougars I'd given Emma were projections. I felt more than a little guilty that Emma was taking the blame for what happened that night, but she had insisted, and while the PRT was lenient when it came to fresh triggers, they were considerably less so when it came to Tinkers who built killer robots that went too far. The fact that she had enough control over them since her transmutation to keep them from seriously injuring anyone else had helped her case a lot.

Of course, with her in the Wards now, the bureaucratic red tape meant she wasn't allowed to use any tinkertech I gave her until it went through a very extensive - even longer, since I wasn't a member of the Wards or Protectorate myself - vetting process and was specifically authorized, which meant no Cyclone for her, anymore than for Sophia, whose power didn't play well with a couple hundred pounds of tinkertech powered armor.

I turned my attention back to the task at hand. The fence wasn't an obstacle for any of us, really. Sophia could ghost right through, and I carried Emma as I flew over with my Cyclone's thruster pack.

The door lock was marginally more concerning. While I could easily break it down with my Cyclone-enhanced strength, I didn't want to damage it. Instead, I looked over at Sophia, who nodded and shifted to her shadow state, ghosting through.

A couple of minutes later, the door unlocked and swung open, and Hellcat and I stepped through. I activated the headlights on my Cyclone to illuminate the place as I made my way to our objective.

I spent a moment taking it in. I'd been working toward this for months now. I just hoped I was ready.

"All right," I said, "time for me to get to work." I looked at each of them. "Watch my back."

"You got it."

"Of course."

* * *

School the next day passed quickly. Considering last night, I was simply too excited to pay much attention to it, and the Winslow faculty remained as apathetic as ever. So long as I did my work, they didn't care.

My face fell when Dad got home. Ever since Mom died, he'd basically been running on autopilot, throwing himself into work, but the Dockworkers' Association had been slowly dying for years. When he came back from work, he usually looked pretty listless.

Now? Now, he looked _beaten_. Defeated.

This wasn't how he was supposed to be tonight.

"Dad?" I asked softly. "What's wrong?"

His head snapped up, and he blinked at me. It must have been worse than I thought; he hadn't even noticed me standing there until I spoke.

"Taylor, I- um, nothing," he said. "Nothing's wrong. Just... another long day at work."

Really? _Really_ , Dad?

I crossed my arms and leaned back. "That's not just a long day at work, Dad. What happened?"

He flinched, and - perhaps for the first time in a long time - he really _looked_ at me.

"Taylor..." He trailed off for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. "It's the ferry."

I blinked. "The ferry?" That... didn't make sense. He should have been _happy_.

He nodded. "Last night, someone managed to get into the ferry house," he said. He gave a bitter laugh. "They fixed up the ferry. This morning, it was good as new. Better, even. It's been upgraded with tinkertech."

"That- that's good news, though... isn't it?"

"You'd think so," he said, "but... the PRT impounded it."

I blinked as I tried to process what Dad had said.

" _What?_ But _why?_ "

He sighed. "They said it isn't safe to let people ride a ferry upgraded by an unknown Tinker. They need to verify it first."

"Oh."

No. This- it wasn't supposed to go like this!

I could fix this. I _could!_

* * *

I could have sent a message to Dragon.

After I'd sent him the VF-1 Valkyrie data, Kid Win had referred The_Betrayed to Dragon; I hadn't realized she even _had_ a PHO account. Working with her over the past year had been an amazing experience, and she'd been surprisingly accommodating on my request for anonymity. We'd discussed everything from metallurgy and electronics to mecha and construction, and Dragon had even managed to wrangle up some federal funding for some of my designs, after some tweaking.

The one thing I never brought up was biotechnology, particularly protoculture. That was a risk I just wasn't willing to take.

In the end, that's also why I decided not to bother Dragon about the ferry. The_Betrayed was comfortably anonymous, and I intended to keep it that way. Besides, going through the world's greatest Tinker for something like this seemed needlessly... petty? Shallow? Egotistical? Something like that.

Instead, when the weekend came, I rode my Cyclone to PRT headquarters as Regess. I never even considered parking the mecha, instead reconfiguring it to battloid mode and letting it wrap around me before I walked in. I noted with more than a little pride the CBR-5 tactical body armor the two door sentries were wearing. The PRT had snapped them up - along with the FAL-2 laser carbines for anti-Brute work - as soon as Dragon and I had gotten them into production. It gave me a rather nice trust fund I could tap into if I absolutely had to, but aside from some high end components and possibly helping with the mortgage, there wasn't much I needed it for.

"Hello?"

I felt a little insulted when my sensors registered the containment foam sprayers hidden in the ceiling arming themselves, but I guess I could understand the precaution.

"Can I help you..." the desk sergeant paused and glanced at her computer as it dinged, "Regess?"

I nodded. "I hope so. I'm here to talk to someone about the ferry."

* * *

I had been ushered into a conference room and informed that Director Piggot happened to be in the office this weekend - I got the impression that that was pretty common - and would be with me shortly. "Shortly" turned out to be a little over an hour, and the first words out of her mouth did not endear me to her.

"I'm sorry about the wait," she said as she entered, "and I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to disarm and remove your armor.

No, she wasn't. She wasn't even _remotely_ apologetic, and I could feel it. This was a power play.

"Then I'm going to have to ask that we relocate to a room that _doesn't_ have half a dozen concealed weapons targeting me," I retorted. At her surprised look, I pointed them out. "Three containment foam sprayers there, there, and there; a drop down gun turret concealed in the ceiling over there - for Brutes, I'm guessing - and two gas projectors behind the baseboard here and here."

Her face soured.

I didn't like Director Piggot.

After a brief pause, she said, "I understand you're here to discuss the ferry."

"That's correct."

"The ferry that we impounded earlier this week after it was repaired and upgraded with unauthorized tinkertech."

"I honestly hadn't looked at it that way," I said, offering a shrug. I may not like her, but there was no reason to be rude... yet, at least. "I just saw something I could do that might be able to help the city and did it."

"Overnight," she said flatly. "Without leaving any other sign of your presence."

"I work fast."

That was when the door burst open. The director's face twitched in annoyance, the only sign of the spike of fury I sensed off of her. "Who the hell-?!" She bit down when she saw who it was: "Armsmaster."

"Director. Regess," he said, nodding to each of us in turn. "I came as soon as I heard you were here."

"Armsmaster," I said, a little ambivalent about his presence. I was still a little miffed about what had happened back in February; it had taken me longer than I'd preferred to get my new lab set up properly in the underwater caverns. His apologies since then hadn't really rung true, either. It was painfully obvious he wanted to recruit me, and it would have been even if Emma wasn't there to give me the Wards' point of view.

"I understand this is about the ferry?" he said. "I've seen some of what went in it. Was that your work, Regess?"

I nodded. "Yes, it was."

"Very impressive," he said. Beneath my helmet, I could feel myself blushing at the raw sincerity behind his words.

"Thank you, sir."

"Some day, you'll have to tell me how you worked so fast, though," he added.

And there he went again, ruining a perfectly good moment with another carefully calculated probe into my secrets.

"Maybe some day, sir," I said.

"Ahem," the director broke in. She was still furious, but it had settled to a slow simmer. Looking between us, she said, "I assume, then, you can vouch for her intentions, Armsmaster?"

"Yes, Director," he said.

"Very well," she said, eyes narrowed. "Then I'll leave this in your _capable_ hands, Armsmaster," she added frostily, then turned and left.

"She... doesn't like me very much, does she?" I asked.

"The director is... complicated," Armsmaster replied. "Let's talk about the ferry."

"When can we get it up and running?" I asked.

He shook his head. "It's not that simple," he said.

"Why not?" I frowned. "You know I'm not a villain."

He gave a frustrated sigh. "There's... regulations," he said finally. "People don't understand tinkertech - not even other Tinkers, usually - and it scares them, so there's a... fairly extensive review process." He cracked a smile. "Even I can't avoid it, and that's with things I'm making for my own personal use. We can expedite it, since it's not combat equipment and we now know who's responsible for it, but it'll still take time."

I looked down thoughtfully. "I see."

He pursed his lips. "And there are some forms you'll need to fill out."

"Of course there are."


	15. Interlude 1A - Rory

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Interlude 2A - Rory_

There were times Rory Christner - aka Triumph - regretted his powers. Whenever he thought about his aborted baseball career, for example, the irony was bitter enough to taste. Karma, he had decided, was a thing.

Now, however, was not one of those times.

"Stop!" he boomed, his voice amplified by his power. The five E88 thugs dropped their guns, clapping their hands over their ears and crumpling to their knees.

Beating up Nazis was incredibly satisfying, and breaking up these little skirmishes between the gangs made him feel like he was really accomplishing something.

The skinheads' erstwhile opponents, a trio of ABB members, were taking the opportunity to run, but the alley was pretty long, and Triumph's partner for this patrol was waiting for them at the other end.

He frowned as they rounded the corner. Or she was supposed to be.

Triumph checked over the Empire thugs one last time and stood up. He had taken only a single step forward when the three ABB members came racing back into the alley, terrified looks on their faces. Barely visible despite the afternoon sun were three felinoid shapes, betrayed by their glowing red eyes as they each pursued their chosen targets.

He couldn't help but wince as they pounced. He'd seen them rend through solid steel, which spoke of strength that could do a lot of damage even with their claws fisted.

And sauntering in nonchalantly behind her projections was his patrol partner.

"Sorry I'm late," she said.

Triumph sighed. "Hellcat..." he said warningly. Image wasn't happy with the name, but she'd insisted, and she'd already been operating under it for a while before she'd joined the Wards.

"What?" she asked innocently.

 _What indeed?_ It was hard for him to articulate his concerns. Hellcat always seemed to be a little... rougher on the ABB whenever they clashed; she was certainly more eager to throw down with them than anyone else. He couldn't quite put his finger on anything, and it always seemed reasonable and above board, but he'd been briefed on what they'd found in that alley. From what he understood, when the PRT had managed to track her down, her father had called in a favor and lawyered up, with Brandish of all people showing up to represent them...

Well, maybe he could understand the soft touch. Even leaving aside the traumatic nature of trigger events and the PR fiasco it could be if it actually went to trial, New Wave brought too much firepower to the local cape scene for the PRT to afford alienating them. It was just... he couldn't get the descriptions of what they'd found in that alley of his head, and the thought she might do something that vicious again - especially under his watch - just wouldn't go away, no matter how much the rest of the Protectorate and Wards and even the veteran PRT officers seemed to take it in stride.

It was another stark reminder that he just wasn't _like_ other capes.

"Never mind."

* * *

After the BBPD picked up the eight gangbangers, the rest of the patrol thankfully passed without incident, and the two Wards returned to PRT headquarters. They stepped back in surprise as someone else exited the building, striding between them.

"Armsmaster, sir," Triumph greeted reflexively, even as he wondered what had brought him here.

"Triumph, Hellcat," Armsmaster paused to give them each a curt nod before continuing on his way.

"Well, off to see the new shrink," she said. "Wish me luck."

Part of the agreement on Hellcat's Wards membership involved mandatory counseling sessions; considering the bloodbath in that alley, that was just good sense as far as Triumph was concerned, regardless of the restraint she'd shown since then or how blase everyone else seemed to be about it. The therapists rotated in shifts - three or four were assigned to the northeast sector; Triumph wasn't sure, as he'd never paid much attention to them - in order to spot any malevolent influence.

"I wonder what brought him here?" Triumph mused aloud as he waited for the elevator. "A meeting with the director maybe?"

That... didn't sound right. While Armsmaster, as leader of the Protectorate ENE, did have regular meetings with Director Piggot, they were usually done by video conference, and when a face to face meeting was called for, it was scheduled during the week, not on a Saturday afternoon, barring emergencies... and he was fairly certain he'd know if there was an emergency.

"Actually, he was here to meet with me."

Triumph looked up. It took him a moment to recognize the powered armored figure before him. He'd never actually met her before, but the tires sticking up behind her shoulders were a dead giveaway.

"Regess," he said.

 _Everyone_ knew about Regess. Tinkers that stayed independent were rare; they thrived with backing and could offer their backers more than any other type of parahuman could. Even rarer were people who said "no" to Lung's face and lived to tell about it. Regess was both.

It was hard to pin down her specialty, but the PRT had tentatively pegged it as robotics or transportation, which led to some speculation she might be related to Squealer. Either way, Armsmaster was particularly eager to convince her to sign on with the Protectorate, which certainly explained his presence here.

"What brings you here?"

"Well..." Regess hesitated, "you heard about the ferry, right?"

Triumph nodded. Of course he had. His father was the mayor, not that Regess knew that, and there was one guy - one of the union reps? - who kept pestering him to repair it and restart operations. So far, his dad had put him off with budgetary concerns, but then it was mysteriously repaired and upgraded earlier this week...

Upgraded.

"Wait," he said, "that was you?"

Regess gave a single nod. "I want to help the city," she said, "and I believe reopening the ferry is a good first step. Hopefully, with the repairs done for free, the city can afford to reopen it now."

Triumph suppressed a wince. He had a feeling how his father was going to take that.

* * *

"I can't _believe_ this!" Rory watched his father, Mayor Roy Christner, gesticulating angrily as he sat at the dinner table.

"Roy!" That was Rory's mother, Tabetha.

"Sorry, dear," Roy said, shaking his head. "That was the office. The PRT just sent us a last-minute memo informing us that they'll be expediting the tinker tech review. 'Barring unforeseen developments, it should be cleared for operation within the next two weeks.'" He shook his head. "Two weeks. _No_ bureaucracy moves that fast. I expected them to be tied up for _months_."

"I'm... not actually surprised, Dad."

Roy looked over. "What do you mean, Rory?"

Rory gave his two younger sisters a quick glance; they didn't know he was Triumph, just that he had an internship with the PRT. "I ran into Armsmaster and Regess today," he said. "Turns out, Regess was the one who upgraded the ferry, and you _know_ Armsmaster's been bending over backwards to try and convince her to join."

Roy sighed and closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging. "Which means I'll be fighting the PRT and Protectorate on this too."

"What's wrong with a ferry, Daddy?" a little voice chirped. One of the twins.

"Kyla, honey," Roy said, leaning down to look her in the eyes, "the ferry would connect the docks with downtown, and the docks are a dangerous place. Some very bad people live there, and the ferry would let them get to more people to hurt."

"That's stupid," the other twin, Melody, said with a frown. "Why let the bad people on the ferry? Why not just arrest them?"

"It's not that simple, Mels," Rory said, "but maybe the ferry's not such a bad idea, Dad."

"You too?"

Rory shrugged. "There aren't really any jobs up near the docks, Dad, haven't been for a long time - you've made that clear plenty of times - so, they've been getting by however they can. Access to downtown could give them _legal_ opportunities."

"Or a means to spread crime to the rest of the city," Roy countered.

"So we're just going to give up on them?" Rory asked. "Write them all off just because of where they live?"

Roy opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Dad," Rory continued, "with my... work with the PRT, I've learned how good it feels to _help_ people. But what's the point if we won't help the people who need it?"

"Rory..."

"I think that's enough office talk today," Tabetha said firmly. "Kyla, Melody, did you two have fun today at Uncle Larry's?"


	16. Growth 2-2

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Growth 2.2_

I could already feel Dad's joy before he even hung up.

He hadn't been this happy since Mom died. I would have _felt_ it.

I couldn't stop grinning.

Because I knew what was going on.

The ferry was going to open. It had taken two weeks for the PRT to vet it, even with Armsmaster personally expediting things, but he'd quietly informed me that city hall was going to officially sign off on it today.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, poking his head into my room. "Something's come up with the Union. Got some work coming in, so I've got to head out."

"That's fine, Dad," I said. "I was planning on visiting Emma and Sophia anyway."

* * *

"A military air show?" Sophia looked at us dubiously. "They still _have_ those?"

" _Yes_ , Soph, they do," I assured her, rolling my eyes.

I could understand her confusion. The military... wasn't what it had once been. Oh, certainly, we all studied history. We all read and watched and heard about the brave men who fought for American independence in the Revolutionary War, the heroes who fought fascism in World War II, and so on, but Vietnam had soured the tradition, and with the emergence of parahumans, national militaries lost their significance. The US military, in particular, had never had a Gulf War to redeem itself in the eyes of the public, no Global Civil War in which to stand between freedom and tyranny before leading the way in forming the UEDF that would later repel two invasions before falling to the Invid.

The original Regess had studied that other world's history well, and she had greatly respected Earth's military, but I don't think she had ever really understood them.

Instead, the US military of my world - of Earth-Bet - found itself slipping further into irrelevance. Conventional troops simply couldn't compete with capes without an overwhelming numerical advantage, and early attempts to issue tinkertech weapons to troops went... poorly. When Congress formed the PRT, they'd slashed the military's budget, diverting both funds and their best personnel to fill the ranks, and the military had never fully recovered. These days, they were more like the National Guard, relegated mainly to disaster relief, though rumors of elite parahuman spec ops teams persisted.

Dragon and I were changing that.

"I've been tapped to help provide security," Emma said, stretching languidly, "and Armsmaster's little pet project here got invited too."

I stuck my tongue out at her.

"I don't get what the big deal is, though," Emma continued, "unless..." She narrowed her eyes at me. "You know something."

"Guilty as charged," I admitted. Giving them a conspiratorial smile, I added, "He told me they've got some new tinkertech to show off."

That piqued Emma's interest. "Tinker planes? Really? I've never seen a real Tinker plane." She paused. "That... _thing_ Squealer had last week totally doesn't count."

"Hey," I said, "at least it got you to finally figure out how to fly properly."

She snorted. "If I hadn't, I'd be street pizza."

I looked over at Sophia. "So, wanna come, Soph? We'd be going in costume, but I'm sure I can convince Armsmaster to get you in as my plus one."

"No thanks," she said, shaking her head. "You two go have fun looking at the pretty airplanes. I've got plans of my own."

* * *

I felt kind of guilty not telling Dad about the whole Regess thing. I _had_ introduced him to Sophia, and most of the time, I told him I was spending time with her or Emma or both. Which was, technically, true.

It was one reason I'd held off on actually making payments on the mortgage from the trust fund Dragon had set up for me. I just didn't know how I was going to tell Dad I was a parahuman.

We were eating dinner when I broached the subject.

"Hey, uh, Dad?" I said.

"What is it, kiddo?"

"Umm... you know they're running airshow at Hanscom Air Force Base this weekend?" I asked.

He blinked. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, um," I hemmed, "I kind of have a ticket for it."

"Taylor..." he said, frowning.

"Come on, Dad." I pouted. "It's an airshow! I've never been to an airshow before! Pleasepleasepleaseplease?"

"With the ferry reopening, I'm absolutely swamped at the office," he said, shaking his head. "I'll have to go in this weekend just to get caught up, and I _certainly_ don't like the idea of you traveling that far on your own. How would you even get there?"

"Emma's going," I said, dodging the question. I couldn't very well tell him I'd ride my tinkertech transforming motorcycle, after all. "I'll be perfectly safe!"

He looked at me, eyes searching mine, and I met his gaze steadily, pleading silently. This air show was huge, bigger than he could possibly know. I _had_ to be there.

Finally, he sighed.

"All right, fine," he said. "You win, kiddo. Just _be careful_ , okay?"

I hugged him. "You're the _best_ , Dad."

* * *

"Today, you'll see how we've combined cutting edge conventional knowhow with complex Tinker technology..."


	17. Growth 2-3

**Seed of Hope**  
 _Growth 2.3_

The 2010 Hanscom Military Air Show. It was a pretty unassuming name for such a big event. Even without the new tech that was going to be unveiled, it was big. These days, military shows like this were more about honoring the past than showing off the future, and they were going to honor all branches of the US military, with vehicles on parade and weapon demonstrations from throughout American history.

Checking in had been simple enough; the gate guard had been expecting me and given me directions to where I was supposed to meet Armsmaster.

As I meandered through the air base, which had been quite thoroughly transformed for the event, I could see that attendance was... sparse, and mostly two generations older than me. No real surprise there. Tanks and jets just weren't exciting, not in a world where your own hometown might boast a cape who could bench press a tank or outrun a jet.

Beneath my helmet, I grinned as I saw Emma - Hellcat - waving at me, and I hurried over. "Hellcat!"

"Regess! I'm glad you could make it!"

We hugged - a bit awkwardly, given our armor - and she waved me over to some sort of tank. "You've gotta see this. They want me to ride it in the parade!"

"They want you to ride a tank?"

"It's not a tank," she said insistently. "It's a _Hellcat_."

Obviously, that distinction meant something to her. Besides the name, I mean. I looked at it again. It was clearly an armored vehicle, with an olive drab paint job and white stars painted on it. It had tracks and a turret with a big gun on it. "It... _looks_ like a tank."

Emma shook her head. "It's a World War Two tank _destroyer_ ," she said. "The M18's not meant to fight like a tank, so it sacrifices armor for speed and firepower. It's got a seventy-six millimeter gun and can go up to fifty-seven miles an hour!"

I blinked. "Wow," I said, genuinely impressed. Granted, the Anaconda had boasted a 120mm gun and could go about as fast... but it was a good meter wider and longer and was over half a century more advanced, with robotech alloys too. "I never knew you were so, uh, enthusiastic about this sort of thing."

"You can blame me for that," a voice called from the tank- err, tank destroyer's turret. A man popped his head out and waved. "I'm a bit of a fan. My granddad served in one of these during the war." He climbed out of the tank destroyer and held out a hand. "I'm Ron, Ron Bartley. You must be Regess."

I shook his hand. "You've been taking care of Hellcat, then?"

"For today."

"My condolences," I said, smirking under my helmet. "She can be quite a handful."

"Hey!" I could feel Emma's indignation at my friendly teasing through the telepathic link.

"Hey, now, Hellcat," Ron said. "Keep up that attitude, and I might not let you fire the big gun at the gunnery showcase."

"Aw, come on!" Emma pouted.

I heard heavy footsteps approaching, and we all turned. "Regess," Armsmaster said.

"Armsmaster." I nodded in return greeting. He wasn't alone, and it took me a moment to recognize the red and gold color scheme.

"This is Kid Win," he said, gesturing to his companion. "I don't believe you've met."

"A pleasure to meet you, Kid Win," I said, holding my hand out.

"Ah, hi," he said, shaking my hand with both of his. "It's so good to finally meet you, Regess. I, uh, I hope we can collaborate some time."

Beneath my helmet, I smiled. "Maybe," I said noncommittally. I wasn't exactly eager to let anyone know the full extent of my capabilities. I turned my head. "Thank you for the invitation, Armsmaster."

"Always happy to help a fellow Tinker," Armsmaster said with a smile. "We can all use inspiration, and I suspect there will be plenty to inspire us today."

"I'll bet," I agreed. If the Valkyries performed as well as I hoped... well, that opened up all _sorts_ of opportunities for advancement.

* * *

"Today, you'll see how we've combined cutting edge conventional knowhow with complex Tinker technology..."

I tuned the Navy lieutenant commander out, instead focusing on the aircraft flying high above. They were VF-1J Valkyries built by Lockheed Martin. They'd won the contract for the first production runs, but Boeing and Northrop Grumman had secured production contracts as well.

Each of them had paid a fee to Dragon International - Dragon's corporate identity, a limited liability company officially headquartered in Delaware for tax and liability purposes - to license the design. Dragon International kept a small slice of the licensing fee, partially for distribution, partially for her contribution in hybridizing a simplified tinkertech hydrogen fusion cell with a conventional high performance turbine into something mass producible to power it, but most of it went to the trust fund she had set up for me as The_Betrayed. I was on the books as an independent contractor; apparently, that's how most Tinkers whose tech Dragon reverse-engineered for mass production were registered and paid. Despite the numbers involved - more money than I'd ever seen before in my life, honestly - I was pretty sure we were being grossly underpaid... but I didn't really care. I hadn't shared the design for money.

The Valkyries performed a number of visually stunning aerobatic maneuvers, flying in what would be dangerously close proximity for any conventional jet aircraft, but it would take a lot more than a little jetwash to cause any real stress to the fusion-enhanced engines and robotech alloy airframes.

Much like the rest of the crowd, I was still looking up when one of the hangars exploded.


End file.
